


You've got me nervous to speak (so I just won't say anything at all)

by firelord



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fluff, M/M, side luren, side nomin, tattoo artist!donghyuck, tattooed!mark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-01 14:57:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20817047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firelord/pseuds/firelord
Summary: Donghyuck – veggie burger eater, fishnet wearing, eye-catching, stunning Donghyuck – doesn’t share many selfies on his profile, to Mark’s utter devastation. It makes sense, though, the account is mostly used to promote his art and his feed is majorly composed of tattoos of various shapes and sizes. This is the best part, really, because Mark swears he will do whatever it takes to have one of those pieces inked on his own skin.( or, Donghyuck may be too good to be real, but if Mark is dreaming then don't wake him up.)





	You've got me nervous to speak (so I just won't say anything at all)

**Author's Note:**

> Well, well, well, looks like it's time for me to write the notes for this ugly child of mine. I don't have much to say, this is the first work I was able to write more than two paragraphs for so please pat me on the back and tell me I did a good job cause I really, really need to hear it.  
A big big thank you to Bummie, Martina and Fra because they helped me a lot and also to the rest of my friends for their support. I did it, mum, I wrote something!
> 
> Enjoy :)

_« Hey dude, your sleeves are dope! »_

Is a comment that Mark gets pretty often as he goes through his daily life, especially during the warmer six months of the year. It’s quite nice to hear, he usually reacts with an awkward smile and a “_thanks, man!_” before he goes back to what he was doing before, and those who were ogling at his arms usually leave him alone after his acknowledgement of their existence.

Nasty stares are another thing entirely. It doesn’t matter how fast he walks through the aisles at the supermarket, he can still feel the glare of the old lady parked with her cart near the dairy products burn the back of his head. He wouldn’t be surprised if there was a clerk following him around to make sure he didn’t steal anything. Because it’s a well-known fact, of course, that tattooed guys are criminals.

Mark should be used to it and he is, to a certain extent. He doesn’t care about what they think, but they still make him want to leave the shop, crash on Yukhei’s couch and complain about humanity. He cannot afford to do that, not when his kitchen is so empty all the flies have died of starvation, not if he wants to eat anything else apart from greasy take out.

From the bottom of his cart some ready-made, microwave food looks up sadly at him. Mark sadly looks back. He stops by the snacks and picks up so many cans of _pringles_ he’s sure he’s gonna become a chip too after he’s eaten all of them.

He should probably buy some real food, he thinks as he navigates around a tower of canned tomatoes, at least to show himself – and his mum on skype – that he can cook a basic meal without external help.

Damn, he hopes the old, ugly woman is too busy arguing with a poor part-time worker about the price of bread to judge him again if he were to walk by. Fortunately, he doesn’t meet her again. After another depressing ten minutes in which he pushes vegetables and eggs into his cart like the action physically pains him, he decides to conclude his biweekly trip to the supermarket by sulking in front of the different cuts of beef before he takes his leave.

Raw meet scares him, he’s not gonna lie. It just sits there, judging him harder than the woman from before because it knows, it just knows that Mark is not going to cook it correctly. That he’s going to forget to salt it on both sides, that the pan is going to be too hot and the inside is going to be raw and the outside will burn and Mark will just have to either suck it up and eat it or throw it away and feel bad for the poor animal that died only for him to prove to the world that no, he can’t really cook.

« Hey, are you ok? You look a bit troubled there. »

Maybe he was glaring at the meat a bit too hard. Embarrassed, he picks up the package closer to him and turns around to put it in his cart, trying to save himself from looking like a strange guy who glares at food.

« Yes, I’m fine, thank… you. »

From a couple of meters away, right in front of the vegetarian options, a guy is looking at him with a curious expression on his face. Or their face, Mark is not sure the person in front of him right now is a boy. And Mark definitely wasn’t aware that people could actually look good under the artificial light of a supermarket, but this human being is stunning, to say the least. Their chestnut brown hair fall on their forehead in pretty curls and their big, dark eyes are friendly while they stare into his own. They’re wearing make up, he notices, little sparkles of gold on their eyelids peak at him every time they blink.

Mark feels bad for shamelessly checking someone out at nine pm in a place like this, so he stops himself from looking down at the stranger’s body. A tattoo peaks from their neck, but Mark can’t see it clearly.

They seem to notice anyway, because their lips curl up in a small smile, nearly a smirk. It only makes sense, Mark thinks, for someone so gorgeous to be aware that they’re gorgeous.

« Well, » they say, placing a veggie burger in their cart, « I’ll leave you to stare at the meat in peace, then. But, if you live around here, I guess I’ll see you around. »

Someone call the firefighters, because Mark’s face is burning. He doesn’t really know what to say, so he stands there and watches the person turn their cart around and move back towards the aisle of sweets and baking ingredients_. They’re wearing a croptop_, Mark’s brain supplies_, and fishnets under their jeans_.

And if Mark is stuck thinking about the contrast of a black elastic band around a small, tan waist the whole walk home then no one has to know.

_ ☼ _

The good thing about being friends with your boss’ son is that he can always find a way to rearrange your schedule last minute so that the two of you can go out for drinks.

The bad thing about being friends with your boss’ son is that said friend can always magically appear at your desk to distract you while you’re trying to work. Yukhei does that at least twice a week.

Mark shouldn’t mind, really, he got his job thanks to Yukhei in the first place. It was fate that, back in his freshman year, pushed him to sit next to the tall guy with the big, bright smile. He later found out that the tall guy with the big, bright smile is actually the son of the owner of the biggest recording studio of the fucking city and he was offered first an internship and then a full-time job there. Mark guesses the reason why his sentimental life is so depressing is because he already used all his luck in his professional one.

But back to the problem at hand, it would be way easier for him to test whether ten different speakers are working correctly if Yukhei could just _stop_ stepping on the wires.

« Dude, please, just stand in the corner or something. »

He says, exasperated. Yukhei just laughs at him and mutters “_sorry, sorry_” – he doesn’t look sorry at all – while he steps away from the mess of wires that Mark finds himself in.

« Hey, man, how are you with money? »

« Good. »

Mark answers, not giving him much attention. It’s true, though, that Mark is good at saving up money. His parents payed for his tuition, so he doesn’t have to think about that, his rent is cheap and his job pays well. Dejun insists that he must’ve saved a country in his past life to be able to live like this now, Mark just awkwardly laughs and buys him coffee every single time.

Mark likes to think that he’s good at compartmentalizing his expenses. He doesn’t buy stuff he doesn’t need, he generally only spends his savings in concert tickets and ink, unless you count renting a room at the studio for a discounted price to record tracks for his soundcloud.

« That’s great. You remember my friend Renjun, right? »

« The painter guy you had a crush on in high school? »

« Yeah, that’s him. He used to work in this big ass tattoo studio but now he moved with one of his friends and opened a new one around here. »

That sparks Mark’s interest. He’s been wanting to get new stuff done ever since his old artist moved to Europe. Still…

« Isn’t Renjun’s style new school? »

« Well, yes, but his friend does all that realistic black and white shit that you like so much. I could give you his Instagram if you want. »

Mark would like that, yes. He says so as he gets up – maze of wires successfully untangled – and hands his phone to Yukhei.

« By the way, man, let me tell you about this person I met last night while I was picking up groceries. »

_ ☼ _

Maybe Mark did save a country in his past life. Screw coffee, he’s gonna buy Dejun a full course meal the next time they go out for dinner.

Because, and this is where his insane luck stroke again, the Instagram profile Yukhei sent him earlier belongs to one particular boy – he’s a boy, his pronouns are written on his profile next to his name (Donghyuck) and his age (25).

Donghyuck – veggie burger eater, fishnet wearing, eye-catching, stunning _Donghyuck_ – doesn’t share many selfies on his profile, to Mark’s utter devastation. It makes sense, though, the account is mostly used to promote his art and his feed is majorly composed of tattoos of various shapes and sizes. This is the best part, really, because Mark swears he will do whatever it takes to have one of those pieces inked on his own skin. He was thinking about something on the back of his shoulder, maybe, to connect with the tattoos on his arm.

After leaving an embarrassing amount of hearts and following the account, Mark copies the email address written in his bio to book an appointment. He’s awkward when it comes to writing and if there’s one think Mark is good at when he has to execute a task that challenges his socializing skills, it’s procrastinating.

Would you look at that, it’s just the right time for a shower. You can’t write emails if you smell, the receiver will know you do.

So, Mark doesn’t look at his phone for a good hour and when he picks it up again, clean and satisfied after his shower and ready to lay on his bed and sleep for at least ten hours, he chokes on his own saliva. Right there, in all its flashy glory, shines a notification.

_haechan_tattoos followed you back!_

And right under it, like that wasn’t enough to prompt Mark’s brain into auto combustion, there’s a message:

_haechan_tattoos: hey _ _:)_

_haechan_tattoos: you’re the boy I met last night, right?_

Mark is going to melt on the floor of his bedroom and what’s left of him will be found by his mother and buried. On the newspapers there will be articles about how Mark Lee, a 26-year-old music producer, died because of a cute boy who remembered him after meeting him once for five seconds.

He takes a breath and answer:

_marklees: yes, that’s me, hi!_

_marklees: so you moved here recently?_

Donghyuck’s most recent photo is one of him and a shorter boy – Renjun, he’s tagged – in front of a glass door. Right above their heads “Dream Studio” is spelled in big, black letters, and the description of the photo tells the reader to “_come find us in our new place_” followed by an address and the same mail contact to book appointments.

_haechan_tattoos: yes, I haven’t even unpacked my stuff yet, my apartment’s a mess _ _:(_

_haechan_tattoos: but we opened our new studio so at least that one’s done_

A quick search on google maps told Mark that the studio is in the same neighborhood as Mark’s house, but Mark is sure there are at least two convenience stores between the place and the supermarket they met in the previous night, so the boy’s apartment must be the one close to where Mark lives.

Mark is a bit creeped out by how fast he came to that conclusion.

_marklees: give it some time I’m sure you’ll fix it ahah_

_marklees: btw your art is dope, dude, I want something yours on my skin_

Was it too straightforward? Mark feels extremely awkward right now. The text feels awkward too, Donghyuck is probably going to tell him to book an appointment through mail and close the conversation and Mark will feel like the biggest los-

_haechan_tattoo: omg thanks ahahah you’re cute _ _:)_ _ I would love to ink you, your sleeves are beautiful!_

Mark has never felt so flustered over a compliment on his tattoos, the money he spent on getting those done is the best spent money of all time. Also, the boy told him he’s _cute_, there’s no way his face is ever going back to its original color, it’s gonna to stay red until he dies.

From then on, they spend the night texting. It’s a casual conversation, mostly oriented around the one thing they know they have in common, which is their love for body art. Mark finds out that Donghyuck has been drawing ever since he was a child and that he got his license as soon as he was of age. Mark, on the other hand, tells him that he got his first tattoo when he was not eighteen yet and that he got in trouble with his parents because of it, but that he covered it with a bigger one a few years later because he didn’t like it anymore.

When it’s late, and Mark is sure he’s gonna fall asleep on his phone if he tries to stay awake for five more minutes, Donghyuck leaves him with a promise of checking his schedule the following morning to book him an appointment as soon as possible, and Mark dreams of animals in black and white running around him in two dimensions and a pair of big, brown eyes looking at him in the midst of speckles of gold.

_ ☼ _

Donghyuck lets him know that he’s free on Friday, nine am, and Mark spends the following three days glued to his phone as the boy sends him photos of his designs. He told him the first night that he doesn’t care about the other drawing something specifically for him, that he would prefer for him to do something he’s wanted to do for a while but hasn’t got a chance to yet.

After all, none of Mark’s tattoos have a meaning unless you try to push it on them. He received critics about it in the past, people telling him his ink is not “_personal enough_”, but the truth is that Mark doesn’t get tattoos for their meaning, for them to be personal, he gets them because they are beautiful. It occurred to him, back when he was a teenager with a plastered arm and doodles drawn on it by all his friends, that he liked the idea of his body being a canvas. When he dries himself up after a shower, in front of the mirror, it’s a piece of art that looks back at him from the other side of the glass. Not one made by some god up there who shaped his features, not the result of an evolution that lasted a billion years, but an ongoing project on which skilled hands drew for hours. Some of his tattoos were drawn for him, such as the profile of a puma he got on his bicep when he asked for something _strong_, others are just the result of his old artist sharing new designs on his Instagram stories and Mark jumping in his DMs saying that he really, _really_ wants them.

On Thursday morning, while Mark is at work checking the booking of the rooms for the following week, Donghyuck sends him the photo of a sketch. Well, he calls it a sketch and it _is_ drawn on what looks like scrap paper, but it’s a fully detailed drawing of a Greek goddess holding a harp and a flask of wine in her hands. His phone rings with a new message while he’s still busy gawking at the picture.

_haechan_tattoos: I really love this one, I could clear it up if you like it _

And since Mark answer him that yes, _god_, he absolutely loves it, the next day he wakes up at half past seven am, takes a shower and buys himself a croissant from that French bakery Jungwoo gushes about all the time. He always treats himself before and after a new tattoo, he heard that it hurts more if you get to the studio in a bad mood – that’s an advice he got at a tattoo convention from a guy called Johnny who tattooed the palms of his fucking hands, so Mark thinks it’s pretty solid.

He reaches the studio ten minutes early and he pulls the door – the little _push_ sticker on the glass laughs mockingly at him – to enter. The place looks just as simple from the inside as it does from the outside: a small waiting room and a counter, black furniture and the name of the studio written on the wall in the same font as its smaller version outside. Photos of tattoos are neatly arranged on panels hanging from the walls all over the room. There’s a door close to the counter, it’s big and open and music travels to Mark’s ears.

The jingle of a bell signals his presence as he steps inside the studio, and not even a second later a figure steps in from the other door. A tall guy with a bright smile, pink hair and – it’s the first thing Mark notices about him, really – a neon green lizard tattooed on his arm welcomes him and moves behind the counter.

« Hi, what can I do for you? »

Mark doesn’t hesitate, he stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jeans and walks closer to the boy, who he now notices has an impressive number of piercings all over his face.

« I’m Mark, I’ve got an appointment with Donghyuck in, » he checks his phone, « five minutes? »

The boy hums and opens a big notebook, similar to the one Mark’s got at his own workplace, looking through a list of names written in a terrible handwriting.

« Mark Lee, here you are, » he checks his name with a pen, « Donghyuck went to the bathroom, I think, is it ok if I make you sign a couple of papers while we wait for him? »

Mark nods and grabs the pen the other hands him. Since he knows this stuff already (he signed this type of papers many times) his brain jumps the chance to remind him that he’s going to see Donghyuck again since the first time. If it wasn’t for the boy – whose name is Jaemin, he finds out – who actually engages him in a conversation when they’re done, he would’ve second guessed his reasons to be here now.

Instead, he’s so busy showing Jaemin the different tattoos on his left arm that he takes a couple of seconds to notice that someone else has entered the room. When he does, he halts mid-sentence.

Donghyuck is standing at the door, listening intently to their conversation. Today, under the natural light of an early fall morning, he looks even more beautiful than he did last time. There’s make up on his face today too, but it doesn’t glimmer every time he moves, it just sits there, suave brown, to accentuate his features and make those dark eyes even darker as they lock with Mark’s.

He’s such a beauty, it’s like Mark’s eyes can’t physically look anywhere else.

There’s a sun tattooed on his neck, under his right ear, and he’s wearing one single earring on the opposite side which is, too, shaped like a little sun. Mark takes in the cropped sweater, the jeans and _was that a piercing on his belly _before realization dawns that he’s being a bit too obvious and he brings his eyes back up, not wanting to make the other uncomfortable. If he is, Donghyuck doesn’t show it. He skirts his eyes down Mark’s own figure, instead, and smiles.

« Hey, nice to see you again! »

Mark tries not to feel flustered under the attention, and he awkwardly raises a hand to wave at him.

« Hi, nice to see you too. »

Next to them, Jaemin snickers but doesn’t comment. He doesn’t spare them another glance as he shuffles the papers on the counter and scribbles on the timetable.

Donghyuck, instead, leads him through the door towards his station. The second room is bigger and well lighted with artificial lights, ordered and clean. Here, too, there are panels full of photos hanging from the walls, as well as various drawings and even paintings. R&B music fills the space, bouncing softly all over Mark from a big stereo placed in a corner. Muffled by the sounds comes the familiar buzz of a tattoo machine and, when he turns around from where he was focused on Donghyuck and the area around him, Mark notices that they’re not alone in the room.

The other boy from the photo, Renjun, is working on a girl’s thigh and doesn’t raise his head to check who just came in. The girl is busy staring at her phone, but she smiles at Mark when he looks in their direction.

When he brings his attention back to Donghyuck, the other is reaching for an Ipad on his desk.

«Here, » he says, handing it to Mark, « tell me what you think about it. »

The goddess Donghyuck has drawn on the device looks towards her left, exposing an intricate hairdo, and she’s got flowers braided in her hair and behind her ears. She’s clutching her harp towards her chest with both arms, the flask of wine not present in this version of the drawing, and she’s wearing a white tunic. The portrayal is a half body and it cuts abruptly, like it represents a fragment of a statue that could be found in some museum, the lower part still missing somewhere under the sea.

Mark doesn’t think there are words to describe how beautiful it is.

« It’s incredible, » he tries, scrambling for a term, « it’s gorgeous, really. You redrew it for me? »

« Yes, I was feeling inspired. »

Donghyuck moves closer to look at the drawing too, and he stands so close that Mark can smell his perfume. It’s sweet, floral, and Mark really likes it.

« She’s a goddess of music, maybe a muse, » he explains, pointing to the harp, « I listened to your tracks on Soundcloud and thought you may like something connected to your passion. »

It’s thoughtful, how Donghyuck redesigned his work for him even though Mark explicitly told him he didn’t have to, and the new design is even more beautiful than the past one.

« You listened to my stuff? »

It’s not a secret that Mark has a Soundcloud, it’s even linked on his Instagram bio, and it’s likely that Donghyuck noticed it when he looked though his profile to hit that _follow_ button, but he didn’t think the guy would actually listen to it.

« Please, » a scoff comes from the other side of the room, « he’s been blasting your music for days, I know your lyrics better than you do at this point. »

Mark turns around to find that Renjun has finished his tattoo, that looks vaguely like a punk rock reinterpretation of Aggretsuko, and is now looking at them with a raised eyebrow.

Feigning indifference, Donghyuck takes back the tablet from Mark’s hands, the both of them ignoring the blush that blossomed on their faces at the insinuation.

« Your claims are absolutely ridiculous, but that doesn’t surprise me. Now, if you excuse us, we have a lot of work to do. »

They do have work to do, and Mark soon finds out that Donghyuck is pretty efficient in his element. Once Mark has taken off his shirt, they discuss together the placement of the tattoo, on his right shoulder blade, then he disinfects his skin, applies the transfer, helps Mark lying down in a comfortable position and then he starts.

At this point Mark is familiar with the pain that comes with getting a tattoo, he’s able to withstand long sessions without big problems, so he grabs his phone with his left hand and distracts himself while Donghyuck works. Every tattoo artist has his own habits when it comes to tattooing, he’s seen people at conventions that are able to do it while they’re engaged in a conversation with someone else, and others that can’t tolerate any background noise apart from the buzz of the machine.

Donghyuck doesn’t talk, but he hums the songs that play on the radio and sometimes he even sings. It’s like the boy can’t stop upgrading to an even more perfect version of himself, because his voice is so sweet Mark is taken aback for a moment. He says so a couple of hours into their session but Donghyuck only laughs and shakes his head, saying that he’s not so good.

Mark disagrees.

Lunchtime comes and Jaemin pokes his head in the room to ask if they’re hungry.

« You don’t care about us, Jaemin, you just want an excuse to go to Subway to grab your own foot long sandwich. »

Mark has learned from a couple of comments he made in the past few hours that Renjun is not one to indulge anyone’s bullshit.

« If this is the treatment I get I may as well just let you all starve. »

And Renjun may like witty comebacks, but he doesn’t like working with an empty stomach. He even suggests that he accompany Jaemin in his trip to keep him company, since he doesn’t have another appointment until after lunch.

« Are you hungry? »

Donghyuck asks, cleaning his work in progress from some excess ink. For some reason, Mark doesn’t feel like lying to him, so he ponders the question in his head for a moment.

« A bit, » he concludes.

« We could take a break, get something to eat and then finish this baby. What do you think? »

Mark thinks it’s a great idea.

Jaemin writes down their orders on his phone, then he and Renjun disappear through the door, their departure accompanied by the jingling of the doorbell. After Donghyuck helps Mark get up to a sitting position, the two are left staring at each other while Lauv sings about liking himself better when he’s with his lover. Resting his upper weight on his elbows, Mark leans forward, closer to Donghyuck, and looks for a conversation starter.

« Why did you move to the new studio? »

The boy grabs a little bottle – _hand cream_, Mark reads on the label – and squeezes some products on his palm, then rubs his hands together to spread it evenly. It’s a sweet smell, it reaches Mark’s nose still strong and rich, but not unpleasant.

« Our landlord needed the house for her younger son or something like that, so she evicted us. »

He puts the bottle back in its place.

« Renjun and I, I mean, we’ve been roommates for years now. Anyway, our old studio was a bit chaotic, too many artists and too many people, and we had been saving money for this project for a while now, so we thought it was the right time to go through with it. We know some people in this area, like Jaemin, and we found an apartment that is nice and cheaper than the previous one, so we moved. »

Mark hums and nods his head a little, showing the other that he’s still listening. It looks like Donghyuck is done with his explanation, though, because he gets up and sits next to Mark.

« How did you find my Instagram? »

« My friend Yukhei gave it to me. He knows Renjun and he told me about the studio, but I didn’t know it was you. »

« Oh, I know Yukhei, Renjun talks about him. »

Mark raises an eyebrow, interested.

« Does he? »

Donghyuck rolls his eyes.

« You have no idea. »

They stare at each other for a moment, the following one they’re laughing. And Mark shouldn’t be surprised, really, that Donghyuck’s laughter is beautiful. His face scrunches adorably while he laughs and his voice is high pitched and melodious, so cute that Mark would look at him more if he wasn’t so busy chuckling himself.

« So, » Donghyuck goes on once silence falls back in the room, both feeling lighter than before, « what do you do in your life, apart from posting dope music on Soundcloud? »

He hopes the other wasn’t expecting a short answer, because Mark tells him the story of his life, basically. About how he majored in audio engineering and music in college, got his job at the recording studio and all the connections he’s able to get working there. He’s been told many times that he’s very passionate when he talks about the things that he loves, and Mark _loves_ music. He loves working in that environment, he loves being able to write his name down in the credits of a song.

Donghyuck listens attentively, and that’s what tugs at Mark’s heart in the end. He asks questions, interested, and he looks genuinely excited when Mark tells him about the time he was involved in a big project and the song charted on the billboard top100.

« Do you want to be famous? »

He asks once Mark is done with his storytelling.

« Not really, » Mark answers, « I want to make music and I like working behind the scenes, I don’t yearn for fame and tours and the big shows. »

They talk some more, about what it means to be famous nowadays and the pressure it brings, before Jaemin and Renjun come back with their sandwiches. Donghyuck takes out a huge bottle of coke from a mini fridge in the corner of the room that Mark didn’t notice before and they all go back to the front room to eat on the couches.

« Hey, Renjun, » says Donghyuck at one point, eager to change the subject of their small talk when it starts to vert towards things he doesn’t know much about, « do you know that Mark is friends with Yukhei? »

« Of course, » the other answer between two bites of his sandwich, « he’s in his Instagram stories a lot. »

« And you could never miss one of those, lest you die from it. »

That comment earns Jaemin a slap to the back of his head.

« Watch your mouth, receptionist, I could fire you if you keep up with this disrespect. »

« Donghyuck would never let you do that, we were friends first before you came into the picture. »

Said boy hasn’t commented yet and Mark is not even sure he’s listening, busy as he is inspecting Mark’s shoulder.

« Oh I would, » he states after a moment, echoed by Jaemin’s scandalized gasp, « but then I would have to deal with Jeno whining about you bothering him while he works because you’ve got nothing to do all day, and I care about him more than I care about you two. »

Hoping he doesn’t sound too out of place, Mark can’t help but laugh at the other two’s expressions. Especially Renjun’s, because he looks like he doesn’t know whether to be pleased of upset by Donghyuck’s words.

« I’ll let you know that my boyfriend loves when I bother him while he works, thank you very much. »

« And you? » Asks Renjun, because he doesn’t look much entertained by their previous conversation anymore, « do you have a boyfriend? Or a girlfriend, of course. »

He’s obviously talking to Mark since he’s looking right at him, and the boy feels a bit flustered under the attention. He feels Donghyuck’s body tense next to him, and it looks like the whole room is waiting for his answer.

« I don’t have either, and I wouldn’t be opposed to either. »

Donghyuck’s body next to him relaxes.

« Why though, you’re so cute! »

Mark shakes his head at Jaemin’s statement, and he eats the last bite of his sandwich to buy some time. It’s not that he doesn’t know the reason, it’s just weird to tell a near stranger that you’re just _very shy_.

« I’m not… good at approaching people, and I guess I’m not interesting enough for people to approach me first. »

The other three scoff in amazing synchrony, like they’re trying to tell Mark that he’s plenty interesting. It’s sweet, considering he’s known these people for less than a day.

« You just need someone that’s able to get through your shyness, » Jaemin comments, picking up stray tissues to throw them in the garbage can, « someone bubbly and exuberant, and I may have some- »

« Well, » Donghyuck interrupts him and gets up, reclaiming attention on himself like a firefly in the night, « this lunch has taken long enough, Mark has probably stuff to do in the afternoon and I need to finish his tattoo. »

Renjun shoots him a long, knowing look, but doesn’t comment. Together they clean up what’s left of the lunch and get ready to go back to work. They leave Jaemin and Renjun, who’s waiting for his next appointment, at the counter, and go back to Donghyuck’s station. Donghyuck puts on a new playlist, and Mark is surprised when one of his songs start playing.

« Now you have to tell me all about each song you wrote. »

Mark is a bit unsure at first, not because he doesn’t want to share, but because he doesn’t want to disturb Donghyuck while he’s working. The other sends him a reassuring smile as he gets his station ready, though, and Mark starts talking about where he found his inspiration while he gets comfortable on the tattoo chair.

They go through all of Mark’s music, then Donghyuck lets him choose what he likes on Spotify, and they comment together on each other’s tastes.

Less than two hours later, Donghyuck turns off his tattoo machine and lays back in his chair.

« Done! » He says, then he cleans up the tattoo from ink excess and blood and pats Mark’s back, « go see yourself in the mirror. »

He takes a while to find the mirror, which is embarrassing because that thing is huge, but when he does, he walks closer and turns around. He gasps as he looks over his shoulder to admire the finished piece.

« Oh my God, _Hyuck_, this is absolutely amazing! »

It’s exactly like the first design, but the contrast is higher and the effect of the ink on skin brings it to life. Mark may say this every time he gets a new one but this time he’s sure, this is his new favorite tattoo.

« You really like it? Are you satisfied? »

Mark turns towards Donghyuck, who’s still standing near his position, and smiles, trying to express all his admiration the best way he can.

« It’s the most beautiful tattoo I’ve ever seen, I love it. »

He walks back toward him and sits on his chair.

« Wrap me up, please? »

He asks, and Donghyuck giggles and cleans the skin again. Renjun comes close to examine the piece, and he hums satisfied before he goes back to where he was busy applying a transfer on a guy’s bicep.

Once Mark’s new tattoo is all wrapped up, safe from dirt and bacteria, and Mark’s got his shirt back on, Donghyuck sends him back to Jaemin to pay while he cleans up. The pink haired boy expresses all his disappointment over the fact that no one called him to see the finished work, but he relents when Mark promises to show him once it’s healed.

Donghyuck walks him to the door, which is a ridiculously short distance, and lays a hand on the handle before Mark has the chance to do so. For a moment they just stand there, looking at each other while Jaemin pretends to be busy to leave them some space. Mark’s eyes fall again on Donghyuck’s pretty features, on the tattoo on his neck, the piercing on his belly button and the tan skin showing from the cuts in his jeans. This time he doesn’t feel embarrassed while he checks him out, he can feel big, brown eyes doing the same to him, so he takes his time committing every centimeter of the other’s body to memory, of his face and the way the corners of his mouth curl up in a sly smile.

« You know, Instagram is a cute app and everything, but it would be useful to have your number instead. »

Mark agrees, and he chuckles and nods while he takes out his phone from his back pocket to hand it to the other. Donghyuck saves his number and sends himself a message, and when Mark takes his phone back he finds a new contact saved as _pretty haechan_. Mark guesses the sun is a symbol that Donghyuck uses to indicate himself and it’s quite spot on, at least in Mark’s opinion, because the smile the boy gives him as he watches him walk through the door shines brighter than a thousand suns.

« I’ll send you a cute selfie later, don’t forget to do the same! »

Mark shoots him an ok sign and waves as the door closes, then he keeps turning back as he walks away. Donghyuck is still looking at him through the glass.

to _pretty haechan: so… coffee sometimes next week?_

_ ☼ _

The following night, Mark doesn’t feel like going out for dinner. He’s busy doing a rewatch of Breaking Bad, he doesn’t want anyone to separate him from the one love of his life: his couch.

Unfortunately, Yukhei doesn’t like to hear excuses. _It’s Saturday night_, he says as he helps Mark apply lotion on his new tattoo, _we’re going out_.

So they go out.

Dinner is nice, they meet up with Dejun and Guanheng and eat enough food that the owner of the restaurant comes to shake their hands before they leave, probably satisfied at the enormous bill they just payed. They’re also the last ones to leave the place, having eaten enough to have gained the _right_ to stay and chat at their table long after they’ve finished, so when they’re out in the open again it’s actually late enough for them to dive straight to the club.

None of Mark’s friends is a big party type of guy, they prefer to hang out at places where the music is not so loud you can’t hear each other talk, but tonight Yukhei insists, and no one in their right mind can say no to Wong Yukhei’s puppy eyes – which is ridiculous, someone so tall shouldn’t be allowed to also have puppy eyes.

They walk to the place instead of taking the car, since most of them live close enough to go back home by foot and Guanheng would’ve crashed on Dejun’s couch anyway. The inside is hot and dark, like most clubs are, and Mark is glad he choose to wear his white shirt on top of his black jeans, because his other tops are made of thicker materials and his goal for the night is to not go back home sweating like a pig.

The dancefloor is crowded, too crowded for Mark’s tastes, and they move towards the tables instead. You usually have to book in advance if you want to reserve a place to sit and a huge bottle of vodka, but the four of them together know enough people in this neighborhood that it’s very likely that they’ll find someone to join for a chat and some free booze.

Someone taps him on the shoulder while he’s walking, and Mark quickly turns around to dark eyes framed in gold smiling into his own.

« Hey! »

Donghyuck says, and Mark lets his friends go on without him. Which are the odds, really, that he meets the same boy twice in the span of two days? Yesterday was scheduled, ok, but they didn’t plan to meet tonight. They’ve texted nonstop the whole day, even about their plans for what’s left of the weekend, but Mark only mentioned dinner and Donghyuck was still waiting for his friends to choose what to do when he last heard of him.

A higher entity out there pitied the poor Mark for his boring human life and decided that he deserves some kind of prize. Donghyuck looking even more gorgeous than the other times he saw him is the prize, of course. He’ dripping in gold: on his eyelids, on his cheeks, falling from his ears and around his neck. His shirt is golden, short sleeved and made of a material so thin it looks like it could disappear, crumble to dust, and it’s tucked into black, sleek pants.

Mark is sure Donghyuck could wear a potato sack with no embellishment whatsoever and still be the most beautiful human on heart, but _dressed up_ Donghyuck is a fucking sight.

« Hi, » he answers, still a bit dazzled, and since he feels bold he continues with, « we ran into each other again, it must be fate. »

Donghyuck laughs, comes closer and points somewhere behind Mark. _He’s wearing golden rings_, Mark’s useful brain supplies.

« More like your friend is hitting on my friend, Renjun must’ve told him we’re here tonight. »

A couple of tables away from them, Mark and Donghyuck’s friends are chatting amicably, exchanging introductions and small talks. Jaemin notices him looking from where he’s sitting next to a well built, blonde boy, and waves at him. Mark waves back. Yukhei, that sneaky bastard, doesn’t even notice him, busy as he is laying into Renjun’s personal space to whisper something in his ear.

Well, Mark should be glad that Yukhei insisted to come here tonight, he guesses.

« Do you think he has a chance? »

He asks, still looking at the table.

« Oh, definitely. »

Donghyuck laughs as he answers.

« Do _I_ have a chance? » He’s still feeling bold tonight, and he turns to look at his golden boy. « With you? »

Surprise flashes on Donghyuck’s face for a moment, and then he’s smiling so beautifully Mark is taken aback. They’re close, very close, and Donghyuck unbuttons the couple top buttons of Mark’s shirt, his smile getting a little teasing.

« I don’t know, maybe if you buy me a drink… »

Mark would buy him a thousand, he just has to ask.

They move towards the bar and seat next to each other at the counter. Mark is aware that his alcohol tolerance is not the best – it’s not the worst either, he still has some pride – and he already drank a little during dinner, so he knows he’s going to get something light. He has a couple of drinks that are his go to choices for when he doesn’t want to get completely smashed, he doesn’t need to look at the list of cocktails even once. Donghyuck, instead, reads all the names out loud and comment on each of them, from the funny, obscene names to the ingredients and the amount of alcohol.

« Get me that one, » he says, pointing at a random name on the board, « it looks like it’s going to be colorful. »

He was right, it is colorful. When the bartender gives him the tall, thin glass full of bright pink liquid Mark eyes it carefully.

« It’s probably full of colorants. »

He comments.

« But it’s so pretty. »

Mark can’t deny that.

They chat as they sip their drinks, and Mark even tries a sip of Donghyuck’s punk thing. It’s sweet, but under the taste of chemical strawberry the alcohol burns his throat as it goes down.

« Do you want to dance? »

Donghyuck asks as he lays the glass on the counter one last time. Mark is dying to say yes, really, he doesn’t know what he would do to watch Donghyuck shine under the flashing lights of the dancefloor, but he would prefer not to throw his newly tattooed, not-healed-yet skin in the midst of all those sweaty bodies.

« I would love to, but I don’t think I can today. »

He says, defeated, and points vaguely towards his shoulder. Donghyuck nods, and Mark waves at him before he can dare to say sorry for asking, but then he pouts and Mark can’t, he really can’t watch Donhyuck pout. Every day you discover something new about yourself, it seems.

« I can buy you another drink, though? For the bummer. »

Donghyuck’s smile is back on his face – mission accomplished – and he grabs Mark’s arm with both his hands to tug him closer to the counter, where he starts to list again all the cocktails he wants to try.

« Stop looking at me like that, » he says, glaring at Mark’s amused expression, « it’s my first time in this place, some of these are new to me. »

In the end, he orders another big glass, but this time it’s full of apple green liquid and ice. It doesn’t matter if there’s a lot of disgusting stuff in that thing, Donghyuck’s cute expression as he mutters “_mmh, apple_” after the first taste is enough for Mark to approve of his choice.

They go back to their table, and Mark finds out that the blonde boy seated next to Jaemin is his boyfriend, Jeno, who works at the pharmacy two blocks down Mark’s studio. It’s surprising that they don’t know each other already, considering Mark finds himself there multiple times every winter, but Jeno tells him that he got the job recently because he spent some years after graduation playing basket professionally and _wow, ok, _Mark likes this guy already.

In the meanwhile, Dejun eyes suspiciously Donghyuck’s hand on Mark’s arm and elbows Guanheng in the ribs to catch his attention. Not even ten seconds later they have already introduced themselves, bombarding him with questions about what he does in his life and where he comes from. Mark sends them a very disapproving look, but Donghyuck looks more entertained than uncomfortable so he doesn’t intervene.

Instead, he takes the opportunity to admire Donghyuck under the sultry lights of the club. Jaemin and Jeno are busy chatting between them anyway, so Mark just sits there, right next to his golden boy as he retells a funny story to Mark’s friends. The story must’ve finished at some point – Mark wouldn’t know, he wasn’t listening anymore – because when Donghyuck returns his gaze his attention is only on him.

_“What are you staring at?” _It looks like he’s saying. That’s what he’s thinking, Mark can read it in his eyes.

« You’re gorgeous. »

Mark whispers in his ear, leaning closer. When he leans back again, searching for his eyes, he finds them big, bigger than usual, and a little dazed. Maybe he’s imaging it, he’s not sure under this lighting, but Donghyuck is blushing.

It’s cute, but also a little unexpected. From their previous encounters Mark got the idea that Donghyuck is confident, sure of himself and aware of his beauty. It’s one of the things that make him so eye-catching in the most mundane situations, the fact that he walks like he _knows_ he’s the most beautiful person in the room, so Mark didn’t expect him to blush over a compliment.

« What, you didn’t know that? »

Donghyuck punches his chest, and now Mark is a hundred percent sure there’s a blush under that golden highlighter.

« Shut up, of course I know, » he grabs Mark’s shirt, pulling him closer, « you were just… genuine. I feel like I bewitched you. »

« Maybe you did, » Mark giggles in his ear, « take your responsibilities. »

Donghyuck’s laughter rings around him, jingling like Christmas bells, but they get interrupted before he has a chance to clap back.

« Hey, you two! » A paper tissue hits Mark’s temple. « No PDA allowed at this table, you either behave respectfully like our favorite couple over there, » Guangeng point towards Jeno and Jaemin, who are looking a bit too smug for Mark’s tastes, « or you disappear like Yukhei and Renjun did half an hour ago. »

It’s Donghyuck who answers, dramatically getting up and tugging at Mark’s arm.

« Well, I guess it’s time for us to go home, then, since our presence here is not appreciated enough. »

The other four protest, but Mark laughs and follows him, also getting up and waving goodbye to the group. (_Hey, we could play together if you want, hit me up!_) (_Sure, give me your number!_)

The air outside is cool, both shivering as they feel it brush their skin.

« I need a jacket, » Donghyuck comments as he makes his way between the crowd of people standing in front of the club, « or more alcohol. »

« Didn’t you drink enough for tonight? »

They leave behind the mass of people on the sidewalk, but Donghyuck still clutches Mark’s hand tight, even though there’s no risk to lose each other anymore.

« I could drink more. I’m not drunk, maybe slightly tipsy. » Mark hums at the comment. « But I don’t want to. I want to remember all the details tomorrow. »

Mark wants to remember them too, he’ll be damned if he doesn’t remember how beautiful Donghyuck looks tonight. He says that out loud, which gains him a punch on his arm.

« What’s up with you tonight, you’re too smooth. Give me back my blushy boy. »

Maybe he wasn’t supposed to laugh, because Donghyuck tries to hit him again and it’s not easy to avoid him while they’re still holding hands.

« It’s the alcohol, don’t worry, it won’t last. »

They take the same route home because Mark was right, they live close, on the opposite sides of the supermarket. The whole walk Donghyuck tugs at his hand and points to different shops and building, asking Mark’s opinion on everything they sell.

« I need you to tell me everything I need to know about this neighborhood, what if I go to a restaurant and it’s the worst, overpriced restaurant of the area but I didn’t know him because you didn’t tell me? »

« What’s the point in telling you about a good restaurant when I could _take you to a good restaurant_? »

Needless to say, Mark has to avoid many more kicks.

« This is my house. »

He says, stopping in front of his doorway. He waits a couple of seconds, patient as Donghyuck takes in his surroundings.

« Oh, » he pouts, looking at the door, « I guess I’ll leave you here then. »

« No, I’ll take you home first, it’s not even far. »

They resume walking, and Donghyuck pokes his side a couple of times.

« Then you shouldn’t have told me where you live, now I’ll knock on your door every morning to whine until you buy me breakfast. »

« That won’t be good for my wallet, you know I’ll just say yes. »

« I know. »

Donghyuck’s satisfied smile doesn’t leave as they cross the street to the supermarket’s parking area, and Mark just watches him as he swings their hands back and forth. There’s something enchanting in the way this gorgeous boy who’s so beautiful, confident and sexy, whose face is full of glitter and black eyeliner, smiles cutely like a kid, squeezes Mark’s hand when he laughs at his jokes and pouts when he doesn’t. It’s real, it’s genuine, its’ everything Mark is looking for. He wants to date him, he wants to make him smile for the longest time.

« We’re here. »

He says and walks the steps to his door. Now he’s taller than Mark, looks at him from above, like an angel.

« Looks like we are here. »

For a moment they’re just there, looking into each other’s eyes, hands still holding tight, looking for something. They must find it, because they smile.

« I’m not asking you to come in. »

Donghyuck states, just to make things clear.

« I wasn’t expecting you to. »

Mark shakes his head, still smiling. Donghyuck bends down, then, and lays his free hand on Mark’s face. His breath caresses his skin, gently, and then his lips land on his cheek. When he leans back there’s something again in his eyes, something that shines brightly in the dark of his irises, in the middle of the gold, on the speckles that fell on his eyelashes, on his cheeks. Mark wants to grab it, that something, and keep it warm between his arms, on his chest, to his heart.

« Good night, Mark Lee. » He lets his hand go, a bit sad, and Mark takes a step back. « Text me when you get home. »

« Will do. »

Mark stands there, hands in his pocket, as Donghyuck opens the door and walks inside the building, and even when there’s only dark, hard wood in front of him, his mind replays his last smile, his whispered “_night_” before the brightest star leaves Mark’s sky to go to sleep.

_Oh well_, he thinks as he walks back to his apartment, _I guess I’m in real deep now._

_ ☼ _

While they don’t see each other on Sunday, Monday morning finds an enthusiastic Donghyuck at Mark’s door and Mark tries very hard to be grumpy – it’s eight am, it’s the right mood to have when it’s basically down – but it’s useless in front of his emotional support boy in all his fishnets glory.

« I’ve come to check on your tattoo, » he says as he steps inside the apartment, « and then you can thank me by buying me breakfast. »

« You just want me to buy you breakfast. »

« That’s absolutely right. »

Still, he sits the both of them on the couch and spreads lotion on Mark’s shoulder with as much care as a painter placing his final strokes on the canvas. He caresses the skin gently, careful of its tenderness, all the while listening as Mark talks about his plans for the day.

« Don’t get used to this, » Mark hears him say while he helps him wear his tshirt, « it won’t become a routine. »

_ ☼ _

It becomes a routine.

Every weekday at eight am Donghyuck knocks on his door and lets himself in with the excuse of practicing good tattoo aftercare. Sometimes he drags Mark to the closest coffee shop to buy breakfast, other times he brings it to Mark’s house instead, and the two of them sit in Mark’s kitchen as they share a slice of cake.

They’re building a friendship, Mark realizes a couple of weeks later while Donghyuck shows him photos of a puppy he met the day before. But are they to be considered friends, he wonders as he sits on the couch with Donghyuck’s legs on his lap. Are they friends if they hold hands when they walk down the street, if they always sit so close their thighs are glued together under the table? Are they friends if – Mark knows it because he may be oblivious but he’s not _blind_ – they’re so damn attracted to each other it’s painful to not cross the border sometimes?

His eyes fall on Donghyuck’s lips, so plump and kissable as he pouts while he retells a story, and his mind can’t help but fly back to when he woke up in the middle of the night, panting and sweating, with the image of Donghyuck still tattooed behind his eyelids. His lips on his own and then down his neck, on his chest, on his d-

No, he’s not going to go there. Not when Donghyuck looks so soft right now, zooming at puppy pictures on his phone, so cute and pure that the only thing Mark wants to do is call sick at work and cuddle him for the rest of the day.

« Mark, are you listening to me? »

Mark blinks a couple of times and it must be very, very obvious that he has no idea what they were talking about, because Donghyuck kicks him so hard he whimpers in pain. 

There’s no need for Donghyuck to use the tattoo excuse anymore, he doesn’t even mention it, he just lets himself in every morning and sits on Mark’s couch, waits for Mark to bring him coffee and chats about everything and nothing at all. Mark always listens. Well, apart from today, he always listens. He listens to the way Donghyuck laughs, to the way he giggles and to the cute noises he makes when he burns his tongue because he’s so impatient he drinks his coffee too soon. And, most importantly, he listens to his words, he asks questions, he nods, he shows interest and he retells his own experiences. And Donghyuck listens to him too, Mark can tell, and it’s the best feeling ever to know that someone actually cares about what you’re saying.

« I’m sorry, I got distracted. »

« By what, then? »

Mark doesn’t answer, but his eyes flicker down to Donghyuck’s lips for a second. Donghyuck notices, Mark hears him inhale, feels the air move, watches him as he bites down on them.

He asks himself a question, one that has been bouncing in his head frequently in the past two weeks.

_Why haven’t I kissed him yet?_

They never agreed on taking things slow, never had a deep conversation about needing to wait, about not rushing through the steps of building their relationships. They’ve seen each other every day for weeks, they like each other, they’re attracted to each other, everyone of their friends make fun of them, why have they not kissed when it’s something they both want so much?

As he looks into Donghyuck’s eyes now, Mark understands that the other is waiting. Donghyuck is waiting for him to take the first step because he figured out Mark quicker than his own friends did, he knows that he needs his time to wrap his head around his feelings, that he’s not good at social interactions, that he has to get ready for changes.

Mark is ready, he has been ready for weeks, he’s just too slow to take a hint.

« Are we dating? »

He asks, one of his hands looking for Donghyuck’s. He hears a thud as Donghyuck’s phone falls on the couch, and they their fingers are interlaced, but no one has talked yet.

« Do you want us to be dating? »

But Donghyuck must know the answer already, considering there’s so much he understands about Mark.

« Yes. »

He answers, sure.

« Then we’re dating. »

Nothing changes, the knowledge doesn’t bring new cards on the table, they still sit there, too close and too far apart at the same time, and the air is charged with feelings.

Mark moves first, then he stops. Donghyuck doesn’t move back, he squeezes Mark’s hand and smiles, waits again, and Mark watches his eyelids fall as he closes the distance between them.

Again, there is no spark of electricity, the world doesn’t fall apart and soundtrack music doesn’t start playing in the background, but Mark’s chest feels lighter and he’s so, _so happy_.

He lays his hand on Donghyuck’s cheek, caresses his skin with his thumb and guides him closer, feels him sigh into the kiss. He smiles, unable to keep all the happiness in his chest from spilling out, and Donghyuck whines against his lips, hits him lightly, and then they’re laughing.

When Mark looks into Donghyuck’s eyes again there’s a new shine in them, they sparkle and light up the room, his smile so beautiful Mark can’t help but hold him close and kiss him again.

And again.

Mark kisses him until they’re making out on the couch, Donghyuck on his lap with his hands in his hair, and Mark holds his waist, caresses his back, all the smooth, tan skin he’s been dreaming about for days.

Their kisses turn heated, reach a peak, and then go back to being soft as Mark draws circles on Donghyuck’s hips with his thumbs. When they separate one last time, lips red and slick and panting slightly, and Donghyuck lets his forehead fall against Mark’s gently. His eyes are so beautiful, so close they’re the only thing Mark can see, and he feels himself fall into them, swimming in the darkness and bathing in gold.

He leans up, touches the point of his nose with Donghyuck’s, and feels the other smile.

« We should go, we’re going to be late. »

Mark whines, lets his head fall back on the couch and refuses to answer. He can’t pretend to be upset, though, not when Donghyuck’s giggles make him smile again.

« Come on, » Donghyuck says, getting up and tugging Mark with him, « we can see each other for dinner tonight, _boyfriend_. »

Mark lays one last kiss on his lips.

« It’s a date, then, _boyfriend_. »

_ ☼ _

Mark doesn’t know, really, he doesn’t know when it started. They’ve been together for months now but there was no starting point. No epiphany, no sudden knowledge that _yes, I am indeed in love with Lee Donghyuck_, no sleepless nights spent turning around trying to deny his feelings.

What would be the point, anyway?

Mark is in love, he is so full of love that bottling it up will just let it spill at the wrong moment, so full that it drips down his fingers and the corners of his eyes. So, instead, he lets it flow right through him, up from his chest and out of his mouth with every word he whispers into Donghyuck’s skin, with every breath, with every exhale as he hungrily chases after the other’s mouth when it leaves his.

Mark doesn’t know, really, when it went past the point of attraction, past infatuation. The shift happened at some point, but Mark doesn’t know when, he just knows that now Donghyuck – _his_ Donghyuck with his bright smile and big eyes and his lips, oh his soft lips – is the center of his universe, the sun around which Mark, poor planet Mark with so little water and so little life, gravitates, stuck forever in his chase for closeness and warmth.

Donghyuck is so warm, his hands touching his skin while he draws on him, his lips pursed in concentration, every touch charges Mark’s skin with electricity and he has to stop himself from fidgeting. He watches with fascination as Donghyuck fills the lines and adds the details to the lion on his chest, his big lion with the rising sun peaking from behind his mere that his boyfriend – Donghyuck, his boyfriend, Mark’s boyfriend Donghyuck – sketched on a napkin when they were out for dinner at their favorite kebab place.

« Hey. »

Mark says, softly, and Donghyuck raises his eyes towards him for a moment, one brief moment of brown orbs into brown orbs, before he lowers them again towards where he’s working on his skin. He smiles, though, when he answers.

« Hey. »

Mark wants to reach out, stroke his cheeks and push his fingers through his hairs, but Donghyuck is working and Mark can’t disturb him right now, can’t smother the crease between his brows with the pad of his thumb, can’t risk him making a mistake when he’s so dedicated to making sure every piece is absolutely _perfect_, he can’t-

« I love you. »

_Ops_, he thinks, _maybe this is not the right moment_. Donghyuck looks up at him again, this time for longer, the sound of the tattoo machine filling the air from where Donghyuck is holding it away from Mark’s skin.

« I know. »

And of course he knows, Mark is not exactly subtle and Donghyuck is observant, so much that Mark is surprised he didn’t say anything first. But at the same time it’s such a Donghyuck thing, to wait for Mark. He always leans close and waits for Mark to kiss him first, he grabs his hands and puts them on his chest, prompting Mark to undress him first, and he has been looking at Mark with expectation for a while now, waiting for him to say it first.

« I love you too. »

Mark knows it too, so he doesn’t say anything and watches Donghyuck turn off the tattoo machine for the last time – thank _God_, he knew a chest piece was painful but these three sessions have been the longest of Mark’s life, even with Donghyuck’s kisses to soothe the pain.

Donghyuck helps him up and follows him to the mirror. The tattoo is beautiful, a fierce beast on Mark’s chest, the king of the animal kingdom, and the sun, Donghyuck’s sun.

“_This is you_,” he said as he showed Mark the sketch he made, pointing towards the lion, “_and this is me_.”

And Mark doesn’t get tattoos that have a meaning, not really, he gets them for the artistic value they carry, but this one is different. It’s a celebration of what they’re building, and Donghyuck drew it for him and would tattoo it on him only.

« Do you like it? »

Donghyuck asks, wrapping his arms around Mark’s waist and putting his chin on his shoulder. Mark wraps his hands around Donghyuck’s, keeps him close.

« I love it, it’s my new favorite. »

« You say that every time. »

« This time it’s for real. »

Donghyuck muffles his laughter into Mark’s neck and Mark watches him fondly, hand coming up to ruffle Donghyuck’s new golden locks.

« This is my peak, I don’t think I can top it. »

Mark laughs and unwraps his arms, turning around to peck Donghyuck’s lips.

« You’ll manage, you always do. Now help me clean this thing and let’s get dinner, I’m starving. »

Donghyuck laughs and shakes his head, but tugs Mark back towards his station anyway.

« We can’t, we’ve got a double date tonight, remember? »

Right, Renjun and Lucas, Mark totally forgot. He groans to express his disappointment, and Donghyuck has to kiss him multiple times to prevent him from cancelling their plans for the night.

He just wants to lay on the couch, make out with his boyfriend and rewatch Shrek for the seventh time, why does social life have to always get in the way.

Donghyuk helps him get up and wear back his shirt, new tattoo safely wrapped under it, all the while chatting about the restaurant they’re eating at tonight. He’s so beautiful, Mark leans down and kisses him again.

Donghyuck gasps, surprised, and giggles against Mark’s lips. They kiss some more, unrushed, peacefully, and then Donghyuck leaves his lips with a last consolatory peck and brushes Mark’s bangs away from his face.

« I love you. »

Mark smiles, loses himself in his boyfriend’s eyes, dark and kind and framed with gold. So beautiful that he can’t help but lay down, bring their foreheads together have them closer, staring deep into his own.

« I love you too. »

And when Donghyuck’s smile shines brightly in the room, warmer than the August sun, Mark knows that the biggest luck he ever had in his life was to find him, and to be able to keep him.

« Let’s go, I need to shower before dinner. »

_Ugh, dinner._

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think if you want, I would love to hear your opinion :)
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/firelxrd) | [cc](https://curiouscat.me/firelxrd)


End file.
